


Rock Me

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clone Sex, Ice Skating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We should go on a date. A proper date.”</p><p>“That’ll be a bit awkward for us,” Gabriel says, gesturing to his face, the blue eyes identical to Enjolras’ (though Enjolras will swear up and down there’s a fundamental difference to them that comes from two very different lives).</p><p>“So we don’t kiss in public,” Enjolras shrugs, wrapping his lips around the base of his index finger and slowly pulling off, “I’ll make up for it afterwards.”</p><p>“What about ice-skating?” Grantaire offers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Me

**Author's Note:**

> a (kind of early) christmas present for the wonderful [Ramona](http://deadpokerface.tumblr.com/) from her [clone verse!](http://deadpokerface.tumblr.com/tagged/incest-twincest-clonecest/)

“I come bearing drinks,” Grantaire declares, nudging the door to the flat shut with his hips, hands occupied with a carrier of hot drinks. There’s a plastic bag hanging from the crook of his elbow stuffed with the groceries he must have gone out to buy.

“A Christmas miracle,” Gabriel says, tilting his head back over the arm of the settee. Loose curls dangle over the edge; Enjolras barely resists the urge to card his fingers through them.

“Be grateful, or I’m not making you pancakes.”

Enjolras’ ears prick at the mention of pancakes. He fumbles off the settee, tugging the sleeves of his jumper over his hands, and accepts the drink Grantaire hands him. It’s warm in his hands, smelling of cinnamon and chocolate. Enjolras hums happily as he drinks.

“Thank you,” he says, and presses a kiss to Grantaire’s wind-burnt cheeks. He takes the cup marked ‘ _G_ ’ to Gabriel, kissing his cheek too. “What was that about pancakes?”

“The reason I had to go shopping,” Grantaire explains, walking through to the tiny kitchen. “I fancied pancakes this morning and I doubted either of you would complain.” He sets the carrier bag and final drink on the countertop, turning to grin at them both having followed him in. “Or am I wrong?”

“Enjolras always wants pancakes,” Gabriel shrugs, “you’re never wrong to assume that. Here, I’ll help.”

Gabriel starts unpacking the ingredients from the plastic bag, so Enjolras sits on the table, sipping at his drink and watching Grantaire and Gabriel cook. The divine scent of pancakes is filling the kitchen in mere moments; Enjolras has to hold back a moan when Gabriel flips the pancake perfectly right in front of him.

“Make yourself useful and squeeze the lemons?” Grantaire hands him the plastic juicer and two halves of a lemon, a smirk on his lips. “Just try not to get any in your eye this time.”

“One time,” Enjolras shakes his head, chucking his now-empty cup in the bin. “One time and you’ll never let it go.”

“Twice,” Gabriel points out, flipping another pancake with a frustrating level of ease. “And where would the fun in that be?”

Enjolras squeezes the lemons without incident, and pours what some could consider to be too much sugar into a plastic bowl, but Enjolras would beg to differ. He places both on the table, grabbing kitchen roll and whipped cream as well.

“Gotta go all out or what’s the point?” Enjolras smothers the pancake Gabriel places in front of him in sugar, lemon juice and whipped cream, wrapping it haphazardly and making the biggest mess as he tries to eat it.

“Go hard or go home,” Grantaire laughs, following a similar route. A drop of lemon juice trickles down his chin, and well, Enjolras really can’t help himself; he leans over and kisses it from Grantaire’s skin.

“Animals,” Gabriel mutters, taking a bite out of his own pancake, nowhere near as stuffed as Enjolras and Grantaire’s.

Enjolras eats another two pancakes and ends up licking the stickiness from his fingers before he speaks again. “We should go on a date. A proper date.”

“That’ll be a bit awkward for us,” Gabriel says, gesturing to his face, the blue eyes identical to Enjolras’ (though Enjolras will swear up and down there’s a fundamental difference to them that comes from two very different lives).

“So we don’t kiss in public,” Enjolras shrugs, wrapping his lips around the base of his index finger and slowly pulling off, “I’ll make up for it afterwards.”

“What about ice-skating?” Grantaire offers. “The Winter Wonderland is open through the day as well as at night, so we can go whenever you’re ready.”

Enjolras’ eyes light up at the suggestion. “I’ll go grab my shoes.”

***

“I think I’ve made a mistake.” Enjolras glares at the ice, fingers gripping the cold metal railings either side of the entrance to the rink.

Grantaire stands a few feet in front of him, balancing on his skates with ease that Enjolras will never have. He stretches his arms out and beckons him closer. “Come on, it’s not that bad. We’ll catch you if you fall.”

Gabriel’s hands rest on Enjolras’ hips, his body fitting snugly against Enjolras’ back. “If we’re genetically identical,” he whispers, breath hot in Enjolras’ ear, “then you can’t be that bad at this, yeah?”

“I don’t want to test that out,” Enjolras laughs, a little helplessly. Gabriel nudges him closer to the ice, and taking a deep breath, Enjolras steps forward.

It’s a miracle he doesn’t slip and crack his skull open with the first step, though he only just manages to stay upright. Clinging to the barrier, he takes another, heading a metre or so away from one of the entrances so Gabriel can join them.

“You’re meant to skate, Enjolras, not walk,” he says. “It’s easier that way.”

Somehow, Enjolras isn’t sure he believes Gabriel. He feels too precariously balanced whenever he so much as thinks of letting go of the railings, instead looking up at Gabriel and Grantaire skating in loose circles around each other.

They’re unbelievably graceful; talking too quietly for Enjolras to hear (which should probably be a bad sign but Enjolras is too caught up in staring at them to pay attention). Grantaire thrusts his hands out for Gabriel to latch on to, swinging him around in a perfect circle, one leg extending off the ice. Cold spray splashes on to Enjolras’ cheeks, burning the skin that’s not covered by his (Grantaire’s) knit hat or the thick scarf he bundled on.

He’s content to watch them skate together, nothing too fancy for fear of being kicked off, but Grantaire manages to lift Gabriel once or twice. It’s not until Gabriel’s speeding towards him, stopping sharply at Enjolras’ left does he suspect all their whispering was actually planning.

“Come on,” Gabriel murmurs, adrenaline flushing his cheeks and lacing his voice. “Come skate with us.”

Enjolras twists and grabs Gabriel’s shoulders, clinging to him as he’s drawn further away from the barrier. “I’m gonna slip!”

“You trust me, right?”

“You, of course,” Enjolras huffs, grasping Grantaire’s arm when he’s within reaching distance, “my own balance? Not so much.”

“We’ll help you.” Grantaire links their fingers together, squeezing tightly as Gabriel holds Enjolras’ other hand. They start skating slowly, exaggerating their movements so Enjolras can copy. If Enjolras weren’t so focused on not falling over, he’d grin at the way they move so in-sync.

Enjolras just thinks he has it, picking up speed and laughing giddily, when he loses balance and hits the solid ice with a thump. The impact on his bum isn’t so bad; Gabriel and Grantaire, both still standing, managed to keep most of his weight off the ice, but the cold that seeps through his jeans is enough to have him scrambling up to his feet.

“Like Bambi,” Gabriel grins when Enjolras almost slips again, falling into his chest in an attempt to stop. “Here, hold my hands, Grantaire will skate behind you and keep you steady.”

Grantaire’s hands rest firmly on Enjolras’ waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Ready?”

Enjolras can barely nod before they’re off again, and this, this is much easier. Gabriel’s pulling him along at a fast speed that would normally be terrifying, but with Grantaire keeping him from tumbling, he’s not quite so shaky.

That is until Gabriel’s fingers start slipping out of Enjolras’ grip. They’re skating too far from the sides for Enjolras to grab onto the railings, and people are moving around them, completely unconcerned with the fact that one half of Enjolras’ lifeline just let go, and is skating out of reach with the biggest grin on his face.

“Gabriel,” Enjolras whines, just catching himself before he reach out for him like a baby hoping for a bottle. Still, Grantaire’s hands are steady on his waist and – fuck, Grantaire’s letting go and Enjolras is on his own now, moving far too quickly to control by himself.

He manages another terrifying ten seconds before his legs are spreading, knees caving, and Grantaire’s swooping in like a fucking superhero, bringing Enjolras into his arms and skating them to the edge.

“You bastards,” he huffs, lightly shoving Gabriel’s shoulder when he stops next to them. Fingers curled in his jacket, he pulls him down to kiss, only stopped by the minute shake of his head. Public place. Clones. Right. He pouts, letting Grantaire wrap his arms around Enjolras’ waist.

“Later,” Grantaire whispers, sending a tremor down Enjolras’ spine.

“Wanna switch places?” Gabriel doesn’t give Enjolras the time to reply, just exchanging positions with Grantaire so he’s pressed against Enjolras’ back, murmuring into his ear. “If you can skate the length of the rink without me or Grantaire helping you, I’ll ride you so hard tonight, you’ll see _stars_.”

“Big promises,” Enjolras says breathlessly.

Gabriel laughs, digging his fingers into Enjolras’ hips. “Nothing I can’t keep. Ready?”

Enjolras wouldn’t be ready if Grantaire and Gabriel had given him another millennia, but he’s being pushed to the top of the rink before he can protest. Grantaire kisses Enjolras’ cheek before dropping his hands, leaving him with a moment to flounder before Gabriel’s pushing him forwards and letting go.

It’s not so bad as long as he doesn’t think about it too much; doesn’t think about how he’s one wrong move from taking out the young couple next to him. Thinking about Gabriel sitting on his cock, Grantaire kissing down his neck, proves to be incentive enough to get him about three quarters of the way. He’s alright until he thinks of Gabriel grinning above him, lazy and completely open, that his thoughts get away from him and he slips backwards, whacking his bum on the ice.

“Shit, are you alright?” Grantaire’s at his side instantly, pulling him up with a tight grip on his upper arms.

“Yeah,” Enjolras laughs. His arse hurts but the adrenaline pumping through his veins has him on the verge of giggles. “Yeah, we might want to lay off the spanking for a while, but yeah.”

“What a shame,” Gabriel says from his other side. “You didn’t make it to the other side though.”

“Maybe you can be lenient,” Enjolras looks up from under his lashes, not that there’s much point, he’s more or less the same height as Gabriel. “Compensation for falling over. Twice.”

Gabriel’s face stays soft for a moment, before a small smile tugs at his lips. “Like I could refuse you anything,” he mutters. “I think our hour is almost up anyway.”

***

They tumble into Enjolras’ bedroom, a mess of limbs and half-undone items of clothing. Grantaire has his hands underneath Enjolras’ shirt, scratching blunt nails along his sides, and fuck Enjolras has been looking forward to this all day.

“Bed,” he gasps, tearing his lips away from Gabriel’s to look him in the eyes. “You’ve got a promise to keep.”

Gabriel strips them both of their clothing, kissing each new stretch of skin with reverence that Enjolras adores, while Grantaire grabs lube and condoms from one of the draws. He’s far too focused on Gabriel’s tongue licking the inside of his thighs to care about that right now.

Grantaire’s lips on the top of his spine break him out of his reverie, reminding him that there’s a point to this and as obscene as Gabriel looks with his mouth inches away from Enjolras’ hard cock, it’s not the endgame here.

“Does it hurt?” Grantaire asks, his fingers tracing patterns on Enjolras’ bum. Probably connecting freckles, Enjolras has enough of them.

“Not really,” he shrugs, delighted that the roughness to his voice makes Gabriel’s head snap up, eyes dark and focused on him and only him. “I can still be ridden into the mattress.”

“Glad to hear it,” Gabriel winks. He stands and pushes Enjolras on to the bed, climbing on top of him easily. Their bodies align perfectly, cocks rubbing together with just enough friction to have Enjolras arching into him, desperate for more.

He rolls off Enjolras too soon, though his place is taken by Grantaire and really Enjolras isn’t complaining about that. Rough stubble drags across his chest as Grantaire bites and licks at his nipples; Enjolras has always loved the burn Grantaire leaves.

A loud, over-exaggerated moan draws Enjolras’ attention away from his fingers carding through Grantaire’s hair. Gabriel’s fingering himself open, staring straight at Enjolras as his mouth forms the perfect pink ‘O’ he knows Enjolras adores.

On instinct, Enjolras ruts against Grantaire’s thigh, aching for more pressure, more relief, for Gabriel to fucking ride him already and oh, Grantaire’s shifting to lie next to Enjolras now, making room for Gabriel to straddle his hips, a loose fist stroking his cock carelessly. Enjolras can’t hold back the whine that escapes his throat.

“You ready?” he asks and tears open a foil packet, rolling it on to Enjolras with one easy movement.

Enjolras nods, he’s been ready since Gabriel kissed him the second they stepped into the flat, and Gabriel holds his cock in place as he sinks down slowly.

“You look so fucking obscene,” Grantaire whispers in his ear, and really Enjolras doesn’t know how Grantaire can be on about him right now when Gabriel is so tight around Enjolras’ cock, his hips rocking back and forth with gentle motions.

“Move,” Enjolras pleads, because it’s always a plea. “Gabriel, _move_.”

Gabriel does; he raises himself up on to his thighs just a little, sliding back down slowly, precisely. Every action completely controlled and designed specifically to drive Enjolras wild. He can’t even be frustrated because the drag and the heat and everything about this is so overwhelmingly pleasurable it’s hard to think coherently.

He does pick up speed eventually though, when Enjolras thinks he’s about to cry if Gabriel didn’t hurry up. Moans tumble from Enjolras’ lips, loud and wanton; increasing further when Grantaire sucks bruises all over Enjolras’ chest, laying claim to his skin.

“How long do you think you can last?” Gabriel asks and fuck, he doesn’t sound affected at all and that just makes this even hotter.

“Not long enough,” he groans; it’s never long enough. “Keep going.”

“Didn’t plan on stopping soon anyway,” Gabriel laughs, riding Enjolras harder as the seconds pass.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , I lo—” Enjolras cuts himself off with a shout, his hips bucking as he comes. Gabriel’s face flushes as he watches Enjolras, dialling down his movements to grinding down on Enjolras’ cock.

“Sorry,” Enjolras sighs, drowsiness settling already.

“Don’t apologise.” Gabriel slides off Enjolras’ cock and disposes of the condom, pressing a quick kiss to the head as it softens. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

“Could have lasted longer,” Enjolras shrugs, idly running his fingers along Grantaire’s arms, muscle firm under his touch. “Gotta take care of you both now.”

“I don’t think you’re taking much care of anyone like that,” Grantaire grins, the first noise he’s made in a while. Enjolras feels a pang in his stomach as the thought that he’s been ignoring Grantaire creeps in the back of his mind.

“You can definitely fuck my mouth,” Enjolras offers, a smugness surfacing when Grantaire’s eyes darken.

“Uh-uh,” Gabriel crawls back on to the bed and pushes Grantaire down. “This one is mine.”

Gabriel takes all of Grantaire into his mouth with no problem, wrapping his lips around the base of his cock and swallowing. He throws an arm over Grantaire’s hips to keep him from thrusting too much, his free hand stroking Grantaire’s balls.

Enjolras is so mesmerised by Gabriel sucking off Grantaire, alternating between long licks and deepthroating him, that he doesn’t notice Grantaire’s hand in his hair until Grantaire’s coming down Gabriel’s throat, yanking on Enjolras’ curls. He hisses in pain, though not entirely unwanted pain, and waits until Grantaire’s hand has relaxed to untangle his fingers.

“You next,” Enjolras says, motioning for Gabriel to come closer.

“You have a really strange way of treating orgasms.” Shaking his head, Gabriel flops down on Enjolras’ right, pushing him into Grantaire on the left. They tangle around each other as easy as breathing. “I’m alright, honestly, I don’t need to come.”

“Don’t you want to?” Enjolras frowns.

Gabriel gives it a moment’s thought, Grantaire dropping chaste kisses to Enjolras’ shoulder as they wait for his response. “Not massively, maybe once you’ve napped.”

Enjolras’ frown deepens. “The nap can wait.”

“Really?” Gabriel lifts a brow, tapping Enjolras on the nose. “You’re about to fall asleep right now.”

“Lies and slander,” Enjolras huffs, betrayed by his own yawn. “Fine, but I’m making it up to you after. We both will, right R?”

“Of course,” Grantaire says. “But after the nap.”

“After the nap.” Gabriel settles in next to Enjolras, resting their foreheads together and linking fingers with Grantaire over Enjolras’ waist. “Promise.”


End file.
